


Change

by FabulousPotatoSister



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Heterochromia Soulmate AU, Reader-Insert, Regeneration, Soulmate AU, WOAH BUDDY LOOK AT ALL THOSE RELATIONSHIPS, originally on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabulousPotatoSister/pseuds/FabulousPotatoSister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Change is difficult, even when you've been through it so many times.</p>
<p>If you want to read this fic on Tumblr instead of here WORRY NOT. Here's the link : http://inthisformiambadwolf.tumblr.com/post/142393579404/change</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Chasing Hazel](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/188065) by inthisformiambadwolf. 



> Inthisformiambadwolf (on tumblr) AKA Button wrote this fic called "Chasing Hazel" which is absolutely flawless and you should actually go read that before you go off and read this because this fic will make more sense if you go read that. So stop, listen to me, and read that first. Here's the link : http://inthisformiambadwolf.tumblr.com/post/142152777079/chasing-hazel 
> 
> Don't come back until you've read it.
> 
> Done reading? Great! If you though that was beautiful and want to see more, here's their blog : inthisformiambadwolf.tumblr.com 
> 
> It's also been edited a little bit by that lovely button, so a big THANK YOU to them! Also a big thank you to them for letting me write this, and for dubbing this fic the official sequel to "Chasing Hazel"! I'm really happy and overwhelmed, and I'm definitely gonna write more for this AU, because why not? It's inspiring!
> 
> If you want to read this fic on Tumblr instead of here WORRY NOT. Here's the link : http://inthisformiambadwolf.tumblr.com/post/142393579404/change
> 
> Anywhoo, read on! Enjoy!

You’re thankful that your other eye hasn’t changed its color in years.

Of course, you know why. You know why it hasn’t. You’ve found him, your soulmate, a magical man named the Doctor. You love him, tall and awkward and lanky with his beautiful green eye, and his other eye – your eye, your own color – reminding you about how much _he_ loves _you_.

He’s not Hazel, but somehow, at the very same time, he is.

He tells you, almost every day, how much he loves you and adores you and it’s not even repetitive – it’s a calming voice even in the face of danger, or during silent nights in the TARDIS when you’re watching the stars. You always say that you know, and you love him too, and the way his face fills with relief is one of the many things you love about him (one out of at least a thousand).

But you know why he _always_ says it.

One day, he tells you his time is running out. That his death is something he can’t avoid, and when he dies, he won’t regenerate, he won’t change and you won’t have a soulmate anymore. You cry, and you see him begin to weep as well, but he continues. This is the last time he changes, this is the last time he sees you, this is the last time he will love you. He tells you he regrets not having been able to find you earlier, he apologizes, but the tears do not end.

What will happen to your other eye then?

And now every time you wake you rush to the mirror and see if your eye has changed. It has not, and you thank every deity in the universe that it hasn’t. You don’t want to lose him; you don’t want to lose your soulmate; you don’t want to lose your Doctor.

When you finally meet his past incarnations, it’s _absolutely overwhelming_.

The tenth is tall, even taller than your Doctor and he has that same brown eye you had for a very long time, but he also has yours. He’s in shock, just like you are, and you realize that in all the time the Doctor has lived, his other eye has never changed. In one thousand years of time and space, it hasn’t changed, and it’s enough to make you start sobbing.

The other Doctor – the forgotten Doctor – is old, and broken. He’s not lively, he’s been torn apart by war, and you realize all the nights the Doctor spends alone in the console room are because of the things he did. But he has your eye and you remember when you had his. It brings a smile to his hardened face when he sees you, and the tears threaten to fall for both parties.

But time is something your Doctor, your beloved Doctor, does not have.

The crack in the wall seems to be laughing at you, because you can’t do anything. Because you’re useless. You refuse to believe that. The Doctor is dying, yes, but maybe, maybe (there’s a sliver of hope that you’re trying to hold on to) a chance will reveal itself to you and you won’t lose him.

“Listen to me, you lot,” you say to the crack, somewhat indignantly, even though your courage is fading fast. “Listen!”

You know it’s probably stupid. You know it probably won’t work, because you’re only human and they’re Time Lords, and you, in all senses, are inferior. But you try anyway, because if they have soulmates too –you know they should have– then they know how you feel. They know your desperation.

“Help him. Help him change the future.” You feel the tears stream down your face now. “Do it. Do something!”

You don’t know if they are really listening, but that sliver of hope is not getting away from you unless something happens, because you cannot lose Hazel. You cannot lose him, because you’ve only met him (and it would destroy you if he died).

“You’ve been asking a question,” you say, feeling your bravery return to you, “and it’s time someone told you _you’ve been getting it wrong_. His name, his name is _the Doctor_. All the name he needs. Everything you need to know about him. And if you love him, and you should–”

Because you love him too–

“Help him. _Help him. Please_.”

It makes you feel small, the fact that you have to plead for his life, but it’s the only thing you’ve got.

As you usher the remaining survivors of Christmas into the tower for safety, you hear the Doctor whoop in excitement and you know, somehow, it worked. The burning remains of flying Daleks fall to the ground and the people scream, but that only serves as fuel for your determination and you get them inside faster, gently but swiftly pushing them inside.

“Love from Gallifrey, boys!” you hear the Doctor yell, and that’s the last thing you hear before you shut the doors to the tower and lock them.

There’s a loud blast and a shockwave so strong you know it must have also rocked the TARDIS. The people inside let out gasps of surprise and fear as children cling to their parents and others stumble and fall from the wave.

Then, silence.

It’s deafening.

You wait until it’s safe – but the wait is excruciating, and you want, no need, to know if the Doctor is alright, if he survived or not. You worry if your eye has changed when you see a young man, just about your age, with one of his eyes a bright blue and the other a vivid green. He’s crying, calling out a name. You wonder why he weeps when he seems he already has a soulmate, but then you realize that he’s lost them, and it makes you worry more.

When you lead the survivors out to survey the wreckage, the whole place is in shambles. You can just see gold dust hang in the air when you lay your eyes on the TARDIS. Ignoring the people, you rush to the blue box.

The door is slightly ajar, and you see the emergency telephone hanging from its hook and you gently put it back.

“Doctor?” you call, but silence meets you instead of the voice you expected.

When you enter the console room, the Doctor’s village clothes are scattered on the floor and there’s an almost-empty bowl of fish fingers and custard lying on the console. Briefly, you wonder why he isn’t here and why all these clothes are scattered on the floor, when you hear footsteps as soon as you attempt to go down another flight of stairs.

You stop, and turn around ever so slowly.

And to your relief, the Doctor –your Doctor, _Hazel_ – is there, smiling at you.

“Doctor!” you breathe, smiling, overjoyed. For some reason, you don’t rush to him, you don’t too close, and you question yourself. You just stand there, fiddling with your fingers as you stare into his eyes, one green, one yours.

“Hello,” is his response, and you can just see it in his face that he’s also happy to see you, it’s just mellower.

Wait.

His face…

“You’re young again,” you say, still twiddling your thumbs in an anxious manner. “You’re okay. You didn’t even change your face.”

And you’re thankful for that.

The Doctor clasps his hands together. “Ha! I can’t stop it now. This is just the reset. A whole regeneration cycle. Ooh!”

The word _reset_ troubles you, and you say nothing as he makes his way over to the custard and finishes it, holding the bowl up to his mouth and slurping it down. But the way he does it is enough to make you giggle, despite your uneasy state.

“Taking a bit longer,” he says, setting down the bowl on the console. “Just breaking it in.”

He grunts as he starts up the TARDIS engines, his body seemingly in pain. He steadies himself when he pulls the lever (that you’ve pulled before, countless times) and the room begins to light up and the disks at the top, with all his companion’s names written on them, begin to spin.

The Doctor’s face twists into something akin of a grimace, and you take one step forward, but only one.

“It all just disappears, doesn’t it? Everything you are, gone in a moment…” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, and he smiles slightly when he does: “… like , _breath_ … on a mirror.”

He leans forward, his hand raised in a motion that signals, _wait, hold on_. It’s anticipation he’s trying to convey, and he looks just a tad bit excited.

But you’re scared. If he changes, will you be able to accept it? Accept the new him? Yes, you know you will, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.

“Any moment now, he’s a-coming.”

“Who’s coming?” you ask, your face already betraying you and your face full of fear, worry, anticipation.

“The Doctor,” he says, and you can’t hold back.

“But you–” You stop, looking him dead in the eyes, not fully knowing what he means. “You are the Doctor.”

He’s started to shake, and when he speaks again, it sounds strained.

“Yep, and I always will be.”

You can see his hands glow, a golden dust seemingly falling off it and forming beautiful swirls. You’ve heard him talk about it.

He lifts his hand to take a good look at it, and he looks pained. He sounds pained, he is pained. 

“But times change…” He takes a deep breath. “… And so must I.”

The Doctor is changing, right before your very eyes.

You should be considering this an experience, a once-in-a-lifetime moment. But the love of your life is changing, and even though you know he will be the same man, just different in some ways, your chest is heavy with the possibility that you will reject the new him like you rejected New Blue all those years ago.

The Doctor is looking at you strangely.

“Your eye… is glowing,” he says, quieter than he ever was before.

It’s never done that before. Maybe this is what happens when it changes. You’ve never known it. You’ve always just fallen asleep at night and the next morning, it would be different.

“See? We’re both changing.” He smiles, trying to reassure you, and you smile back, but it’s not a happy smile, it’s a sad smile. “It’s okay. You know I still love you.”

The tears start when he tells you he loves you, even though you’ve heard it over a million times. He smiles again, sad, just like yours.

You know he doesn’t want to go. But he has to.

“We all change,” he begins, “when you _think_ about it. We’re all different people, all through our lives. And that’s okay, that’s _good_ , you’ve got to _keep moving_ , so long as you remember _all the people that you used to be_.”

The Doctor is still waving his arms around, like he usually does. It starts off slow, less lively, less… well him, but as he goes on he gets faster, excited, and it still brings a smile to your face.

He claps his hands together. “I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear.”

The Doctor looks straight into your eyes, and you realize that this is the last time you will ever see that lovely green.

“I will always remember when the Doctor was me.”

Slowly, he takes off his bowtie, takes on last look at it, almost longingly (and internally you scream that _he can’t, he can’t do that_ ) and, his face scrunched up in pain, he drops it on the floor. There’s a soft thud where the fabric lands.

He closes his eyes, ready, and then that’s when you act.

“No, _no_ ,” you say, your voice slurred with grief, walking forward to stop him when you know you can’t. You reach out to him, his hand glowing brighter and brighter. Your fingertips almost touching.

He opens his eyes and softly says a small “hey”, and you let out a choked sob.

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching out foolishly. “ _Please don’t change_.”

He smiles at you, and for a moment you think maybe he actually won’t change. But despite what you plead to him, he does change.

And it’s very sudden.

He jerks backwards, his whole body glowing yellow and gold as your eye throbs, and when he comes forward again, you’re greeted with a new Doctor.

You jump back towards the railings in fright, because that was just seconds, milliseconds even. It shouldn’t have been that fast – you know as much as that, but there he is, the new Doctor. The twelfth one (well, thirteenth, if you’re counting by colors, but the Doctor is used to his number being one off and he gets flustered whenever you remind him that you’ve had all his colors).

You stare at each other for what seems like eternity.

He’s tall, looks quite a bit older too, and his eyebrows are out of control. His hair is curly and grey, one of his eyes is a piercing blue (the kind of blue that seems like it could bore holes into your skull), and the other –exactly your shade. You’re relieved that _that_ hasn’t changed yet– but how is this Doctor different? How has the Doctor changed this time?

“Kidneys!” he gasps, and you take in his accent. Scottish, definitely Scottish. “I’ve got new kidneys!” Then he frowns. “I don’t like the color.”

You stare at him, tilting your head in confusion. “Of your… _kidneys_?”

Suddenly, the TARDIS starts to shake, lurching from side to side, almost making you fall to your knees. Panic fills you, joining the sorrow from losing your Doctor, but it’s also joined by some kind of excitement at being in some sort of adventure again.

“What’s happening?” you demand, gripping the railing tightly, your knuckles turning white. “Doctor, answer me!”

“We’re probably crashing,” he says, still trying to figure out his surroundings. He stumbles from the turbulence. “Oh!”

“Into _what_?” you ask, maybe just too loudly, because the new Doctor winces.

“Stay calm,” he unhelpfully says, because how can you stay calm in a situation like this? The TARDIS is crashing, you’re probably going to die, and he’s telling you to stay calm?! “Just one question.”

The Doctor looks at you.

“Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?”

This new Doctor is going to be very, very different.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment and kudos, and have a wonderful day, everyone!


End file.
